


Children of Pompeii

by vgersix



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000 Years of Pining (Good Omens), Ancient Rome, Angst, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is Good With Kids (Good Omens), DO NOT REPOST WORK, Gen, Historical, M/M, Pompeii
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21839350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vgersix/pseuds/vgersix
Summary: The ash was already so thick, Crowley could barely see where he was going.“Hold on,” he shouted, struggling to be heard above the roar of humanity around them, people crying out for help where there was none, the rushing sound of rubble raining down on all sides.He placed the little girl’s hand on the hem of his robe, watched as she made a fist around it, and clawed the dark glasses from his eyes. He tossed them thoughtlessly to the ground. It didn’t help much — the forum of the city was a sea of smoke and dust, people running every which way; but there was nowhere to go.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 152





	Children of Pompeii

**Author's Note:**

> CW for child death  
> This is chapter 1 of 2

The ash was already so thick, Crowley could barely see where he was going.

“Hold on,” he shouted, struggling to be heard above the roar of humanity around them, people crying out for help where there was none, the rushing sound of rubble raining down on all sides.

He placed the little girl’s hand on the hem of his robe, watched as she made a fist around it, and clawed the dark glasses from his eyes. He tossed them thoughtlessly to the ground. It didn’t help much — the forum of the city was a sea of smoke and dust, people running every which way; but there was nowhere to go.

Crowley bent down, picked the girl up, and hoisted her onto his hip. The others huddled around him, but she was the smallest. She wouldn’t be able to keep up.

“All right,” he said, addressing the little group of children around him. “This way. Everyone hold hands and stick together, right?”

They nodded, looking up at him fearfully. To their credit, not a one seemed phased by his eyes. They had bigger problems.

Titus had silent tears rolling down his face, but even he looked determined, his little jaw set, ready for anything. Crowley had barely managed to get him out of the house before it had come crashing down under a rain of molten stone. His mother hadn’t been so lucky.

He lead them through back alleys, ducking in and around bodies, pushing through tiny spaces. Crowley was stunned by the number of people pushing carts, leading goats, or otherwise carrying worldly belongings with them in their desperation to get away.

Didn’t they know? Couldn’t they see? This city — this entire island was doomed. They were all going to die. Their only sliver of hope was to drop everything and run.

“Ahh!” The tiny cry met Crowley’s ears, immediately distinguished from the others in the crowd. He skidded to a stop, turning to see little Felix scrambling to get up. He’d tripped and fallen on the cobblestones — blood already welling up where he’d skinned his knees.

“Come on!” shouted Crowley. “Hortensia,” he began, addressing the girl, one of the oldest of the group.

“I’ll get him,” she said, running back toward the small boy, scooping him in her arms. “We’ll catch up!” she called over her shoulder, not looking back.

Crowley hesitated. “You lot run on ahead!” he said to the others. “We’re right behind you. Down to the docks, quickly!”

They scrambled on little sandaled feet, scurrying downhill. Crowley turned to shout after Hortensia.

“Hurry!” he shouted as he turned to look back down the alley. “There’s not much—”

A massive hunk of burning stone appeared, as if from nowhere. “Hortensia, look out!”

The fireball of blistering rock screamed down the alleyway, and Crowley had to duck into a side street, preternaturally fast, to avoid it. The girl in his arms squealed in fear, the first sound she’d made through the entire ordeal.

He clutched her close to his body, wings opening on instinct to curl around her protectively.

“You all right?” he asked, shifting her weight on his hip and looking into her small, terrified face. She nodded, but there were tears in her eyes.

Crowley dared a peek around the corner. There was no sign of Hortensia or little Felix. There was no sign of anyone. He winced, sighed a deep breath, and headed off down the hill toward the others.

And, _oh thank Satan_ — they were there, huddled by the dock.

Titus scurried out from under the dock, where he’d been hiding.

“Magister Crowley!” he cried. “The boats have all gone!”

Crowley swept his free arm in a wide arc, doing a quick miracle.

“Oh look,” he cried. “One left!”

The children all turned to look doubtfully, and to their utter shock, a small canoe sat there, lashed to the dock.

Crowley hurried to place the girl who was still clutching him, her little hands like tiny vice grips, into the boat.

“All right!” he said. “Everyone in. Everyone in — quick!”

They clamored into the boat. Crowley shrugged off the cloak covering his shoulders, tugging it over the group of them like a protective blanket. He didn’t know how much good it would do, if any. Fabric was just as flammable as human flesh, after all — but if anything did rain down on them once they were out on the water, at least the little ones wouldn’t have to see it coming.

“Now go, go!” he shouted, shoving the oars into the hands of the oldest children.

“Sir!” Titus screamed. “What about you?”

“I’ll be all right kids — now, go! Hurry!”

He pushed the boat off into the harbor, putting all his strength behind it. The little canoe sliced through the water, and if he miracled a bit of current to its stern, no one would know.

They were off. Crowley couldn’t stay to watch as they shot out across the sea. He had to get back up the hill. There were others. He’d never know if they made it. All he could do was hope.

He led two more groups down to the dock, miracled two more boats, before the ash and smoke began to become too much even for his infernal lungs. He was back in the forum, struggling to see straight, when he realized he’d lingered too long.

“Shit,” he said to the now silent street. “I’m not gonna make it.”

The surrounding area had gradually grown quieter over the last few minutes as the humans succumbed to asphyxiation one by one — slowly suffocating from either the ash itself or the poison gas that came with it. The air stank of sulfur. Like Hell on Earth.

A hunk of flaming rock sailed by, narrowly missing him, and crashed into a merchant’s shop across the way. Crowley looked around, his vision growing dim. He’d always liked this city. Good food, excellent wine. For an enjoyable afternoon at the theatre, it had rivaled even Rome, occasionally. He hated to see it go. And go it would. Already the ground beneath his feet was buried in a thick layer of rock and ash. He stumbled across it, nearly falling to his knees more than once.

Scraped knees. Poor little Felix. He’d been too small to keep up with the rest of them. If only Crowley had thought — he should have scooped him up in his arms as well, along with the little girl whose name Crowley didn’t even know. He’d never met her before today. 

And Hortensia. Twelve years old. Her whole life ahead of her. All of them. So small. So young. So utterly helpless.

Tears streamed down the demon’s face. Why all this suffering? Why so much death? Even unto the little innocents. It made no sense… What had any of them ever done to offend the Almighty? What could they possibly have done, to deserve such an untimely end? Such hurt? Such terror?

Crowley gasped, searing pain shooting through his charred lungs. He crumpled to the ground, unable even to stand any longer. He didn’t care. He had no idea how he was going to explain his presence here to home office, once he was fully discorporated and returned to Hell. This wasn’t his assignment. He had no real reason to be here. He dismissed the thought. He’d have to come up with something.

The sound of beating wings was nearly lost to his ears as he clung to the last dregs of consciousness, but a bright light hit his closed eyelids, and he thought it must be volcanic fire raining down on him at last.

He squinted, barely opening his eyes enough to catch a glimpse of the familiar face gazing gently down at him before he passed out.

“Angel?”

**Author's Note:**

> Chat at me on [Tumblr](http://vgersix.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/vgersixwrites) | Check out [my Ao3 profile page](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vgersix/profile) for more info about current writing projects and more //
> 
> Much love,  
> Laura / vgersix


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